Ghost of you
by smiling inside
Summary: What would you do if you kept seeing the ghost of someone who was not yet dead? What if that person was your worst enemy? What if you were falling in love with them?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hope you all enjoy. Please review and tell me what you think. This is just a short little introduction to my story.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Also the title "Ghost of you" came from a Good Charlotte song.**

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_Prologue:_

When Draco Malfoy awoke on that cold morning at the start of the Christmas holidays, he did not straight away realise what was wrong. It was as though a cold presence had entered his room during the night, however at the time he discarded it without a second thought.

The boy was in his last year at Hogwarts; head boy none the less, and he was both feared and respected by the other students, of course as it should be. In so many words life for Draco Malfoy was perfect. Well, almost, the fact he had to share a common room with Granger put a slight downer on things, however this was a mere hiccup to his year, which he felt confident he could ignore. And what a nice job of it he had been doing.

Contact with the mudblood had been kept to a minimum, only talking at meetings to discuss head girl and boy duties… and these usually ended in arguments anyway.

Either way, as he crawled out of bed that morning, he did not notice the figure at the end of it, sitting on his green quilt, dry tears staining her face. Nor did he notice her that night as she watched him drift off to sleep. Perhaps it was because his subconscious mind was telling his such things were impossible, of course had his mind told him such a thing, it would have been very much in the wrong.

She herself did not truly know why she watched him, perhaps it was of lack of anything else to do… being dead was tough.

She almost gave up. Almost. The ghost of a girl wondered around Hogwarts school, invisible to all those around her, trying desperately to be seen.

Out of habit more that anything, the girl floated up to what was once her common room and sat in front of the fire, a distant expression on her face as she watched the red flames burning silently, yet was unable to feel them. It was as though she was stuck between two worlds. And maybe she was.

When Draco Malfoy walked into the common room that day, he did not notice her straight away. He walked past the fireplace, not giving it a second glance, however upon reaching the door to his room, something inside him made him turn around and stare at the spot where the ghost of a girl was sitting. He blinked. Then he blinked again to make sure.

"Granger?"


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I would firstly like to thank all my great reviewers, you are all wonderful people!**

**I hope you all enjoy this chapter and please review and tell me what you think.**

**Disclaimer: i don't own Harry Potter... etcetera etcetera etcetera... on with the fic.**

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At Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry, it is none too rare to see a ghost roaming around the castle, floating through walls and occasionally re-telling stories of their deaths to younger students. It is, I suppose, common sense to come to the conclusion that for a person to turn into a ghost… they would have to die first. 

It is therefore only natural that Draco made the smart assumption, that Hermione Granger was dead, after all, what else was he supposed to think… the girls ghost was sitting right in front of him. So yes indeed, a smart assumption. But a wrong one.

"When did this happen?" he asked gently to the ghost form of his enemy.

The girl floated closer to him and placed a transparent finger on one of his lips, "don't tell her… she'll think you're crazy," whispered the ghost.

Draco frowned and opened his mouth to question what she was talking about, but before he could the portrait swung open.

It is fair to say that the young Malfoy was not a man who was easily silenced, however the sight of the bushy haired Gryffindor walking into the room, looking very much alive was an exception to this rule. Had he wanted to say anything, the boy would have found his ability to speak momentarily disabled. So instead he looked from one girl to the other, eyes wide, mouth slightly agape.

Hermione however seemed to be oblivious to the fact that her ghost was floating a few meters away from her, "what are you looking at Malfoy?" she huffed, flinging her bag to the floor and headed towards her room. The ghost girl put a finger to her lip, reminding the blonde boy of her previous words.

"N-nothing," he stuttered, looking from the ghost to the girl wide eyed.

With one last look at the boy, Hermione shrugged and stomped up to her room, leaving Draco and her ghost form alone.

After a while the usually smooth talking Slytherin prince managed to choke out a, "who are you?" in the direction of the ghost.

The ghost girl floated closer, causing Draco to take a sharp step back. She did not reply straight away, and he took this moment of silence as an opportunity to study the ghost. Every hair, every curve of her skin, it was the same as Hermione's. It didn't make sense to him, but he was sure they were the same person.

"Wrong question," the girl whispered, "you know who I am. The question is how."

"How?" He repeated quietly, lifting a hand carefully and touching the ghost, just to make sure. As his fingers went through her, he felt as though he was touching death itself, he pulled his hand back quickly and took a sharp step back.

The ghost sighed, "I was killed".

"But…" Draco mumbled pointing to the door Hermione had just walked into.

"Yes, I said I was killed. Not her," she reminded, however decided to give a better explanation having noticed Draco's confused expression. "Somehow, I'm not quite sure how, I got sent back into the past to stop things which should not have happened coming to pass. I have to warn myself of my death, only so far it's not going too well. It appears that you are the only one who can see me".

Draco opened his mouth to talk, closed it again, and then finally managed to choke out, "you're dead in the future? And you've come to stop yourself from dying?"

"Yes".

"Is that allowed?" he asked.

"In special cases. When the person was not meant to die, and their death can only cause an evil imbalance to the world".

Draco quirked a brow, "I won't ask".

"It's probably better you don't" agreed the ghost of Hermione.

"So how long do you have until your present Hermione…erm… turns see-through?" he asked carefully.

"You mean how long until she gets killed and turns into me?" she helped.

"Killed?" Draco let out a low whistle, "do you know who d…"

"Don't want to talk about it!" Hermione bit.

Draco nodded.

"So what do I have to do?" he asked.

"Warn her," the ghost sighed as though the answer had been obvious.

"Just one problem," he began innocently, "Hermione Granger is a stubborn know it all who listens to no-one, and hates me".

"I AM NOT A STUBBORN KNOW IT ALL!" The ghost fumed, "however the hate thing could be a problem… this is all your fault! If you were NICE once in a while she may believe you when you tell her she's about to die".

"I am a very nice person! … Great as if one Granger isn't bloody bad enough, I now have her ghost trailing after me!"

"Floating," the girl corrected sadly.

"I see even in death your annoying habits of perfection persist on sticking around," he pointed out.

The ghost girl opened her mouth to reply, however instead she once again put her finger to her lip shushing the boy, then in a blink of an eye she faded into nothingness. "Be nice!" she whispered in his ear one last time before disappearing completely, seconds before Hermione Granger stormed out of her bedroom.

_Say something, _urged his inner voice, however no words seemed able to reach his lips. After all, what was he suppose to say to his enemy… who was soon to be murdered?

"What are you gawping at Malfoy? And why aren't you ready? You know we have to be at the prefects meeting in…" she looked down at her watch, "27 seconds… oh my gosh we're going to be late, what kind of an example will we be setting!"

_SAY SOMETHING!_ Screamed the inner voice in his head.

"You're looking very… alive… today Granger," he said, wanting to kick himself as soon as the words had reached his lips.

The head girl rolled her eyes, "Grow up Malfoy!… 19 seconds… look I'll have to go without you, I'll say you were ill," and with that she rushed out of the room leaving a slightly confused Draco.

"Very smooth," came a voice from behind him, the blonde boy turned around to face the ghost girl, "you're looking very alive today Granger," she mimicked.

Draco glared at her, "I can't do it. It won't work… find someone else".

The ghost girl could tell he was being serious, and she didn't have time for this, by her estimations, her alive form had just under three weeks to live. She looked down at the boy… she would have to tell him.

"Look Malfoy… I don't like you, and I don't trust you either, but by some cruel twist of fate you're the only one who can help me," the girl floated down beside him, almost touching, "please".

The head boy shivered, the ghost girl had a cold presence about her, but her eyes… they were like the windows to her soul, and when he looked into them he could see how scared she was, and how desperately she needed help. Before he could change his mind he gave a quick nod of his head. "But," he added, "you have to tell me everything… who kills you?"

"I can't tell you," she looked at him pleadingly, silently begging him to leave it at that.

"Then I can't help you," he shrugged.

The girl bit her lip. "Okay," she whispered, "but you'll regret asking," the ghost looked away momentarily, replaying the moment it happened in her mind.

"Who?" encouraged Draco, staring intently at the ghost. Her eyes seemed to darken.

She looked at him; hesitant to reveal the information, however she reasoned it was the only way.

"It was you… you killed me".


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I would once again like to thank all the lovely people who have reviewed my story! You all make me so happy!**

**I know these chapters are quite short, but I'm hoping you will all forgive me because I'm updating quite fast. I would have written more, but it just seemed like the right place to end this chapter. **

**Disclaimer: ****Still not mine (unless J.K. Rowling is willing to hand me the rights to Harry Potter, if so please contact me)!**

**On with the next chapter… **

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He heard what she said; in a strange way he had expected it, however that doesn't mean he believed it. He knew himself better than anyone else did, and Draco Malfoy knew there was no way he was possible of murder. He was sure of it. Well… almost sure. 

He shook his head, not accepting what he had been told, "no… I wouldn't," he insisted.

"Are you sure about that?" the ghost girl whispered, "look at me Malfoy… look what I've become. You did this to me".

"NO!" he shouted banging his fist against the wall, "I'm not like that… I wouldn't!" he turned away from her, not able to look her in the eye, "I wouldn't," he repeated in a whisper.

"Are you sure it was…" he began, turning around to face the ghost of Hermione Granger, however his eyes were only greeted by an empty room. His shoulders sagged as he tried to make sense of things.

He never got on with her, every little annoying habit of hers drove him up the wall… the way she knew everything, the way she spoke so perfectly, the way she would bite her lip when she didn't know what to say. He thought it was some sort of nightmare when McGonagall had told him head boy and girl share a common room. However despite all that, he didn't hate her. Not really. He always considered their relationship… if you could call it that… a mutual understanding and sharing of dislike. Would he ever murder for dislike? Would he ever murder?

He supposed these questions would be answered as time went by, for now however he would have to do the one thing he could… try and get closer to Hermione Granger. If what the ghost had told him were true, he would have to do everything within his power to change the future. If Hermione trusted him enough, he could warn her… warn her of her murder… warn her of him.

His father once told him that for history to remember your name, you have to do whatever is necessary to gain power. Trust no one, and eliminate all those who stand in your way. What would his father say now if he knew he was fighting to keep his enemy alive?

The boy shook his head, squeezing out these thoughts and instead slowly trekked up to his room and stood by the window, looking up at the night sky, letting its beauty momentarily sooth his mind.

"It's beautiful isn't it?" came a voice from behind him; he turned around to face the ghost girl, listening while she spoke, a sad expression fixated on her face, "I can't feel the night breeze any more," she whispered, "I don't feel warmth, I can't feel your skin against my fingers," she said, stretching out a ghostly hand and gently touching his cheek, "I don't want to spend eternity like this". For a moment she was silent whilst she gazed up at the night sky, "I'm scared Draco… scared of death… scared of staying like this forever… scared of you".

"I'm not a murderer," he insisted.

"No you're not," she agreed, "not yet".

"Not ever," he whispered, more to himself than to the girl.

The ghost thought silently for a moment, not wanting to reveal too much, however finally she said in a small voice, "there are some things in this world which are beyond our control".

"This is not one of them things!" he shouted angrily.

The ghost form of Hermione smiled, "let us hope so".

"Definitely," he nodded, "I'll go crazy if I end up with your ghost floating around after me for the rest of my life".

For the first time the ghost smiled, "you're not as bad as I thought," she said before slowly fading into the background, leaving the boy once again alone with his thoughts.

And what dark thoughts they were, thoughts of death and destiny.

Since a young age Draco believe every man and every woman control their own destiny, and he'd be damned if he was proved wrong. He would make things right… either that or die trying.

Why was it that he alone could see the ghost of Hermione Granger where all others could not? Why is it that in the future he was destined to become the person he most feared turning into… a murderer. And why had he been given another chance to stop what seemed to be the inevitable?

Such things confused him. It was as though the Gods were playing with them… toying with their lives.

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In a dimly lit cottage, far away from Hogwarts School, three men sat around a table talking in hushed voices. 

"It is time," hissed the Dark Lord.

Lucius Malfoy nodded hesitantly, "yes my Lord," he muttered quietly, his usually powerful persona fast vanishing in the presence of the most feared man in wizarding history.

"You will bring him to me on the night of his 18th birthday… he will have to perform a sacrifice to prove his loyalty," Voldemort commanded.

"But my Lord… his birthday is less than three weeks away!" reminded Lucius Malfoy.

"Are you saying he is not ready?" asked the other death eater with a smirk, as though challenging the blonde man.

After a brief pause Lucius muttered, "I assure you both, Draco will do as I say, he will be a faithful follower my Lord, just as I have been".

"Let us hope you are right," snarled the Dark Lord, "you know the consequences otherwise," he said stroking his wand threateningly.

"The boy is ready my Lord," insisted Lucius, "have you chosen the sacrifice?"

"Let's just say I have someone in mind," the Dark Lord nodded.

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As Hermione Granger walked down the deserted corridor on the way back from the prefects meeting, an uneasy feeling gripped the pit of her stomach, as though she were being watched. She quickened her pace, suddenly aware of all the dark shadows. She felt as though an eerie presence was lingering close by, something, which did not belong within the walls of Hogwarts. 

The ghost girl watched her from afar, remembering back to when it was her walking in those steps. History was repeating itself and unless she did something about it, she would be a mere spectator of her own death... for a second time.She knew it was all down to Malfoy now… it was down to him to change both their destinies.

If she could re live her last day, knowing she would never again speak to all those she loved, she would stop and tell them just how much they changed her life. She would write to her mother one last time, she would tell her not to cry for they would see each other again when the time was right. She would tell Harry and Ron how much she loved them and she would hug Ginny, and tell her to be brave.

She had taken life for granted, assumed she had years to live, if she were just given another chance she would stop and take in every moment, the feel of the grass beneath her feet, the warmth of the sun against her skin, the touch of her fingers against the pages of a book. It was the little things she missed the most.

All she could do now was pray that Draco succeeds in changing fate. His fate. Her fate.


	4. Chapter 4

**_A/N: Once again thank you SO much to everyone who is bothering to read this story, and a special thank you to all those who have been reviewing!_**

**_I hope you all enjoy this chapter. You can blame my teachers for the fact I did not update sooner as they all seem to think it's a good idea to set loads of homework._**

**_Disclaimer: As always, Harry Potter does not belong to me._**

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He couldn't sleep that night, and perhaps it was better that way, for had he entered the unconscious world, his dreams would have been plagued with evil and death. Instead, he watched the Gryffindor girl while she slept. Her face so peaceful… so unknowing of what was to come. Her life in his hands, and yet he had no way of telling her, every time he opened his mouth to warn her, no words came out. He was running out of time and he knew it. More than anything he was afraid of failing, afraid of becoming like his father. 

Lucius Malfoy had been a good husband. A good father. And then things changed. The Dark Lord had offered him power few men could resist, and now, he was nothing more than a servant of Voldemort, killing innocent people at the command of his master. When Draco looked into his father's eyes, he could see all the lives, which he had taken, for they were always with him, perhaps not physically, but deep down inside, he could tell his father was a haunted man.

Draco had sworn to himself never to fall into that path.

And yet, as defiant as he was, his future had been told to him, and deep down he knew the ghost girl spoke truth, for she spoke of his greatest fears coming true. It was as though he was destined to become all the things he had been so adamant to keep out of his life… Death. Destruction. Murder. And the more he thought about it, the more complicated life seemed to be.

He did not notice the ghost girl appear from nowhere until she spoke to him in a quiet whisper of a voice, "couldn't sleep?" she asked, placing herself in a dark corner of the room, which the few rays of sunlight which were creeping through the curtains had not yet reached.

Draco shook his head, unable to muster up the energy to speak just yet. They both observed in silence as the girl slept, oblivious to the fact she were being watched.

"Just tell her," sighed the ghost.

The head boy nodded, knowing that he may as well tell her now. He would not waste time with meaningless pleasantries, she would see through them, instead he would tell her the truth, at least that way, he would have done all he could. Taking a cautious step closer to the Gryffindor girl he whispered, "Granger," whilst shaking her gently, "wake up, we need to talk".

The girl slowly opened her eyes, giving a little yelp at the sight of the Slytherin prince at the side of her bed, "what do you want Malfoy?" she bit, annoyed at having been woken so early on a Saturday.

"To talk," he said casually.

The girl studied him a moment, her eyes revealing the distrust she felt, "You're up to something Malfoy, and don't think you can fool me otherwise."

"What would you say if I told you I've been seeing a ghost which no one else can see?" he asked carefully.

Hermione shrugged, slightly taken aback by his question, "I don't know".

"What would you say if I told you this ghost was of a person who was not yet dead?"

"Don't be ridiculous that…" she began, but Draco cut her off.

"And what would you say, if I told you that this ghost I've been seeing… is a ghost of _you_?"

Hermione frowned, "is this some kind of sick joke?" she asked, unsure what to make of this.

"Would you believe me if I said no?" he asked gently.

The girl did not answer straight away; instead she sat in silence, biting on her lower lip as though deep in thought. At last she said in a small voice, "you would have to prove it".

He shrugged, taken aback by this, he had expected denial, perhaps a little shouting on her behalf, however she seemed perfectly serious, accepting the fact that he may be telling the truth, "what do you mean?" he asked slightly unsure of what exactly she wanted.

"Well, is _she_ in the room?" Hermione asked, referring to the ghost, when Draco nodded she continued, "ask her something about me, which only I would know".

The blonde Slytherin raised a brow but nodded, thinking carefully of what to ask.

He looked at the ghost girl questioningly, as though asking for help, but she remained silent, allowing him to think for himself, "Ok," he mumbled, "what's your first memory as a child?"

Both ghost Hermione and present Hermione thought silently for a second, eventually the ghost muttered, "when I was a little girl, I used to be afraid of the dark, my mother used to come into my room and hold me, she would tell me never to fear shadows, for they always mean there is a light shining somewhere," the ghost sighed, "that's my first memory".

The head boy repeated this to Hermione, who looked like she was about to be sick, "how…" she stuttered, "how did you know that?"

"I'm telling the truth," he mumbled.

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What is one to think, when in a moment their whole life comes crashing down around them? One minute everything seems so simple, and then next nothing makes sense any more. Who do you blame when the pendulum of life swings the wrong way?

Hermione Granger listened in silence as the person she hated so much told her of her future... and what a dark one it was.

She wanted to shout at him, insist he was lying and walk away. She wanted to enclose herself within the four walls of her room and stay alone in a dark cloud of silence, pretending what she was told were not true. And yet she knew, fate had a funny way of catching up with you.

Truth be told, more than anything she was afraid of dying, afraid of being forgotten, afraid of spending an eternity without those she loves.

It has been said, that all things happen for a reason, every uncertainty, every mountain we must overcome in our lifetime, every hard decision we have to make… there is a reason for it. And perhaps that is true. However, at that moment in time, Hermione could neither come up with a reason nor an explanation as to why such a thing would happen to her, and instead she inwardly prayed it were nothing more than a nightmare she would soon awake from.

Her prayers however went un-answered.

"Why?" she mumbled, for the first time looking into the blonde boys eyes, "why are you telling me this? Why don't you just let fate do its work?"

He did not reply straight away, instead he searched within himself for an answer and sure enough one graced itself upon his lips, "it's not your time to die," he whispered.

And that was all that needed to be said.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I would like to thank everyone who has reviewed this story, and i am going to start working on it again, as i do intend to finish it. This is just a short chapter i know but, better than nothing i hope.**

**Please review and tell me your thoughts.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

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What's a girl to think when everything she was once sure of, crumbles before her eyes? What's she to do when the person she hates the most, is the one who holds her life in his hands? And what is she supposed to think, when told her ghost is watching over her, awaiting her death a second time? 

When Hermione was confused, she would turn to books, for she knew the answer she was looking for would be hidden within the pages before her, waiting to be found, but now, she knew no book could answer the questions she had, for no book spoke of her life and no book could tell her the future.

Draco was hiding something and she knew it. She had asked him over and over who was going to kill her, and every time he would insist he did not know. He was a liar. And yet, every time she asked, somewhere deep down inside of her was a flicker of hope that he would not share this secret with her. It was as though she knew it was better not to know.

Nothing made sense anymore.

Lucius Malfoy sat at his large mahogany desk, a lone sheet of parchment sat in front of him whilst he stroked the quill in his hand, considering his words carefully. Eventually, he leaned over and dipped the tip of the extravagant pen into a small pot of black ink and in his perfect handwriting he began to construct a letter. He addressed it to his only son, and signed it neither with love nor with kind words, instead he left his signature, as if her were writing to a colleague not to his child.

He turned to the owl who had been waiting quietly by the window and handed it the letter, "take this to Draco," he muttered and opened the window, allowing it to leave the manor for its trip to Hogwarts.

The blonde man hoped Draco would not put up too much of a fight for he knew the consequences. The Dark Lord was not a tolerant man and if Draco failed to do as he was told, both their lives would be at risk; to say the least.

Draco lay on his bed and watched her as she floated around his bedroom, her expression unreadable and her silence defiant. She had been like this all day. As though she were thinking something through, and every time coming to the same conclusion.

"Care to tell me what's wrong?" he asked finally, unable to stand the silence any longer.

The ghost form of Hermione floated down beside him, "I can't remember my mothers name," she mumbled, a silver tear running down her ghostly face, "I just can't remember it."

Draco looked at her confused, "I could just ask Hermione for you," he offered, much to his horror, the ghost girl cried harder.

"You… don't… understand," she managed to choke out between sobs, "I'm… forgetting things!" Draco moved closer to the ghost, "I don't remember my cat's name, and I don't remember what shape scar that boy had on his forehead."

"Crookshanks, and a lightening scar," Draco reminded, wiping away a silver tear, trying not to shiver as he touched her ghostly skin.

"I'm scared," she admitted.

"Don't be," he replied, "I won't let the past repeat itself. I promise."

The ghost girl nodded.

As he watched her, something occurred to him, and the more he tried to push the thought out of his mind, the more he needed to know, "did it hurt?" he asked. He could tell she was taken aback by his question, "Dying," he explained, "did it hurt… did I hurt you?"

She shut her eyes, remembering back,

_**Flashback:**_

_He looked at her, as though considering his options. His hands trembled as he held the knife tightly. "KILL HER YOU FOOL!" came a voice from behind them, "do not be weak Draco, she's a just a mudblood. A filthy mudblood!"_

_The girl's eyes stung with tears as he approached her, "please," she cried, trying to crawl away despite the binds holding her arms and legs._

_He crouched down beside her, lifting the knife slightly, "I'm sorry," he whispered and before he could change his mind, he pressed the knife into the soft flesh of her belly. _

_**End of flashback.**_

"I'm sorry," Draco whispered as he regarded her pained expression as she remembered back.

She looked at him darkly, "that's what you said… when you did it," she floated away from him, "you said you were sorry… but you did it anyway!"

"I…" he began but she cut him off.

"It didn't hurt though," she said in answer to his question; tears were once again pouring out of her ghostly eyes, "I just remember feeling cold… really cold," and with these words she floated out of his room, flying out into the night sky, a silver shadow in the darkness.

The boy was left alone in his room, the feeling of guilt settling in his stomach, guilt over something he had not yet done. It felt as though the walls were closing in on him and his air was running out, he was trapped between fate and chance with only the slightest glimmer of escape.

"Draco…" he looked up expecting to see the ghost girl again, but instead met two very alive cinnamon coloured eyes. He raised a brow, looking at the girl questioningly. She shrugged, trying to keep her eyes from watering, "I'm scared".


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thank you SO much to all my wonderful reviewers, because it is nice to know people are bothering to read my story. I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

**Please review and tell me any thoughts and comments, as I do try and take all of them into account.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter (I'm sure that comes as a great shock to all of you).**

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She just wanted someone to tell her it would be all right. She needed him to tell her everything would work out fine in the end. But that's the one thing he couldn't do. He wanted to, he even opened his mouth to try, but the words just wouldn't come out, because deep down he knew, that nothing would be the same again.

"What do you want me to say Granger?" he muttered.

"I just need to know that everything will be fine," She shrugged slowly.

He didn't know what to say. What could he say? But his silence said everything. His eyes told her all she needed to know; that her life, was now in the hands of time… her future already decided upon. For a second, anger burned within her, "I hate you," she muttered. He looked up at her, a look of confusion replacing his usually unreadable features, "I hate you!" she shouted it this time, more defiantly than before and making the blond boy flinch for a moment. "You couldn't care less if I live or die. This is all some game to you".

She turned and stormed out of his bedroom; had she stayed a while longer, she would have heard him mutter in a regretful voice, "No Granger, this is no game". And indeed it wasn't.

Draco let out a small breath he didn't know he had been holding. He had handled the situation badly and he knew it; she had come to him for help, she needed reassurance, and he had said nothing in return to help her.

It's just that, he couldn't bring himself to lie; or waste his time with meaningless reassurances. Life was complicated enough. What he needed was a moment to recollect his thoughts and try and find a way out of this huge mess. On the surface of it, it seemed simple… Hermione's ghost had come from the past, to stop him from committing a crime he would live to regret for all eternity. So, logically thinking, all he had to do was _not _kill the girl. However, deep down he knew that soon, there would be a choice to make; which would be anything but simple.

And how right he was.

As the blond boy sat on his bed, a pained expression distorted his usually calm features; his mind aflame with dark thoughts… thoughts of the future. And as he sat there, she watched him. She stood beside the bookshelf, calmly observing the boy as he tried to make sense of things. In a strange way, she was doing the same… making sense of things. Throughout her lifetime, she had hated him; his smallest habit became a major fault. The way his stormy grey eyes would flash dangerously whenever they argued, the way he spoke in such an arrogant manner… as though he though himself better than her, and the way he would look at her, as though in disgust. She hated it. And yet, mixed in with all the hatred and anger, there had been another feeling there too, one she was even now unable to decipher. But, it was this feeling that made her confident, that Draco Malfoy had depth. He had layers. And she was almost sure that within the icy caverns of his heart, there was perhaps a little flicker of tenderness.

Now that she was dead however, and as she studied him, she was sure of it. In life, she had thought him selfish and arrogant and perhaps even evil. Now she knew, that her feelings of hope for the boy were justified after all. Now, she could see, that he was merely alone on this great big planet. She was not trying to make excuses for his behaviour; instead she knew that Draco was not as bad as she had first thought.

He cared. Looking at him now, she could tell that he would do everything within his power to try and alter the path, which had already been mapped out for them.

The only problem: she didn't know it yet. Or at least her alive form didn't. Hermione Granger (of the present) still felt he was an arrogant bastard, so to speak; and despite the fact, that deep down, she believed that there was good even inside young Malfoy, she was apparently, not about to accept it. The ghost girl knew, that for Hermione to accept the blond boy, he would have to _prove _to her that he was good.

The boy, stood up abruptly, and without realising it, walked through the ghost girl towards the door. He stopped in his tracks for a second, having felt the ghost go through him, and he shivered. Draco turned around, and stared at the empty space in front of him, "I'm going for a walk," he muttered, "you can join me if you so wish". The girl thought for a moment, before slowly materialising in front of him. She gave a small nod of her head, before following him down to the common room and out of the portrait.

"Were you there for long?" he asked gently.

"A while," came her distant reply; as though her mind was still absorbed in her previous thoughts.

They walked in silence down to the entrance, and slowly crept out into the night, not caring in the slightest that he was breaking school rules. Draco enjoyed the peaceful atmosphere of the Hogwarts ground under the dark night sky, and, with only the light of the moon to guide them, they walked further away from the school.

"I hurt her feelings again," he muttered, referring back to Hermione.

"I know," she replied. It was strange, talking about herself as though she were a different person.

"I didn't mean to," he added, "I just didn't know what to say to her".

"She just needs someone to talk to," the ghost girl explained, "she doesn't want to tell Harry and Ron, she feels it would be putting pressure on them". Then, as though trying to justify further the girl's actions, the ghost added in a sad voice, "I was always like that; always thinking I could handle everything alone". She sighed.

"But why come to me?" he asked, "She hates me".

"You hold her destiny in you hands. You hold my destiny in your hands. Humans are forgiving creatures". And with these last words, the girl once again disappeared, leaving the blond boy alone with his thoughts. The darkness engulfed him, and yet, he didn't care; he found it almost soothing… the gentle breeze hitting against his face, the silence framing this moment as though it were a picture. For in that second, everything was perfect, serene and calm.

In that moment, he didn't know, that soon, very soon, his world would come crashing down around him.

* * *

When he got back, Draco was so tired, that he almost didn't notice the large elegant owl which had perched itself on the edge of his desk. It fluttered its wings annoyed with the lack of attention it was receiving from the boy. Draco skimmed his eyes over the large creature, recognising it immediately as his fathers; they say that pets resemble in subtle ways their master, and with nothing more than a quick glance at this owl, one could say this was a fine example of such a case. The owl was a large animal, and yet graceful in everyway; its eyes critical and its long brown feathers perfectly smooth and sleek against its curved body. Draco was convinced that his father had picked the creature because of its similar style to his own. It was both graceful and yet menacing; and Draco was sure it would sooner peck ones eye out than deliver letters. 

Either way, he approached with care the large bird and detached the letter from its fearsome looking talon and opened it with only a brief moment of hesitation. Whilst he unfolded the letter, the owl eyed him silently as though it were analysing his expression. With care, he opened the piece of parchment and read:

_Draco,_

_As your eighteenth birthday approaches, the Dark Lord grows eager to see you. We have spoken of this day and both of us knew it would come soon. It is time Draco for you to pledge your loyalty to our Lord. Do not fail me Draco. I will contact you again in one week._

_LM._

And thus it was clear. The evil he had been waiting for was about to cause more havoc than he could ever had imagined. It had begun.


End file.
